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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23228062">Delicate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/americamarauders/pseuds/americamarauders'>americamarauders</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Album: Reputation (Taylor Swift), Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, Song: Delicate (Taylor Swift)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:07:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23228062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/americamarauders/pseuds/americamarauders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason Todd liked the cute bartender that served him just the right whiskey at the just right amount. But, it's delicate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Jason Todd/Reader, Jason Todd/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Delicate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is definelty not my best work, but this has been sitting on my docs for a while and I can’t make it any better. Sooooo, here is a song fic with yours truly jason.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The dive bar on the east side of Gotham was his most favorite place. It was perfect. Crowded, but not too much so he could still go unnoticed by most. Cheap, but not too cheap, that way he knew the drinks were legal and not contraband. Clean, but not too clean to give off an air of pretentiousness that most bars on the central part of the city gave him.</p>
<p>            Jason would go there all the time. Before patrols, so he could listen to the shady crowd that attended the bar and pick up some clues on some shady activities he could destroy. Those were the days he sat on the back, and carefully observed the movements that adorned the bar on those late afternoons. Those were the days he did not drink.</p>
<p>            After patrols, he would sit at the bar, most of the times only without his helmet and armor. He would order scotch, neat, no ice, and would quietly drink as he observed the bartender. The bar was always mostly empty by the time he got there, so she was always tidying it up the place, cleaning cups and tables, washing the floor. She looked like she didn’t mind him being there, and Jason thought it to be the truth. She looked like she didn’t belong at a dive bar at the ends of Gotham city, at the prime of her life, cleaning messes that drunk thugs left behind. But, alas, she was, and Jason wanted to know why.</p>
<p>            He slammed his glass on the counter. She flinched behind him, dropping the mop she was holding. They were the only people in the bar.</p>
<p>            “Can I help you?” she asked politely. She had seen a lot inside her bar, and she concluded that politeness was always the best course of action. It would never make you target. She directed herself towards the other side of Jason. She grabbed the bottle of scotch he enjoyed—he had been there so many times, it was natural to pick on his habits. She poured him another glass and stared at him.</p>
<p>            “Why do you work here?” he mustered up the courage to say. He had been wondering about it for a while, but he never had actually said something to her, too afraid to get attached.</p>
<p>            “Excuse me?” she said as she put aside the bottle of scotch. His favorite bottle.</p>
<p>            “You look like someone who shouldn’t be working at a… <em>place</em> like this,” he motioned to the bar around him.</p>
<p>            “Are you implying that I’m weak?” she narrowed her eyes at him, looking over her shoulder.</p>
<p>            “No, I’m saying that you look like someone who should have gone out of Crime Alley,” he took a sip of his drink.</p>
<p>            She chuckled and turned to him. She picked up a rag and poured a bit of vodka on it and started to clean the counter. “This is my parents bar, I’m helping them keep the lights on,” she explained.</p>
<p>            He picked up his wallet and put the money on the counter. “That’s very noble of you,” Jason said. He got up and started to walk to the door, careful not to dirty up the floor she had just cleaned.</p>
<p>            She eyes the money. He had left considerably more than he should have. “Wait, you paid more than you should.”</p>
<p>            He rested his hand on the doorknob and for the first time that night, he looked into her eyes. “Keep it,” he smiled.</p>
<p>            She smiled back at him. “Thank you,” she said. He smiled in return and left.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t you think it’s weird?”</p>
<p>            “What?”</p>
<p>            “The pettiness of life,” she said, cleaning the cup Jason had just emptied. “It is so fickle, isn’t it? You try and try but, in the end, you don’t have control over it. You are forever in the hands of fate”</p>
<p>            Jason felt her words hit close to his heart, so much that he wondered if she could read minds. He soon discarded this idea, it was possible, but highly unlikely. “Yeah, weird,” he said awkwardly.</p>
<p>            His eyes wandered off to the rest of the bar as the last costumer of the day approached her to pay his due. All the booths had emptied out, as the night turned into day slowly, Jason being the last one out. His eyes landed on the old jukebox on the far corner of the bar. He had noticed it was there but never truly saw it until that moment. It shone on the dark, like a beacon asking for him to come near. He got up from his seat, walking slowly towards the juke box.</p>
<p>            She took notice of his actions, as she closed the door and all of its locks. She smiled; the jukebox had that effect sometimes. She rested the keys on top of the counter of the bar and walked towards the stunned Jason—even though later he would deny wholeheartedly he was <em>not</em> stunned, nor perplexed.</p>
<p>            “My Father used to play me these songs all the time when I was a little kid,” she said leaning against the jukebox. “But there was one that was my absolute favorite,” she put on a quarter and pressed a few buttons, “I used to play it on repeat. I know that if my Father hears it, he will break this jukebox just out of spite,” she chuckled. The song started to play, and she closed her eyes and started to hum.</p>
<p>            Jason smiled. “Would you like to dance?” he said, making her open her eyes in surprise.</p>
<p>            “Now?”</p>
<p>            “Yes, now,” he caught her hand in his and guided her to the melody of the song.</p>
<p>            She smiled coyly, trying to hide it. Jason felt a bubble of satisfaction and happiness burst inside of him. If only his younger self could see him now, he would have received a huge kick in the shin for being so soft and silly around a girl. To hell with his younger self, he died for a reason.</p>
<p>            They swayed to the harmony of the soft song. Jason couldn’t contain the dumb smile he had on his face; this woman was special, and he knew all too well. She took a deep breath and rested her head on Jason’s chest, sending flutters all over his body. “I may not know a lot about you, but I trust you Jason,” she said softly.</p>
<p>            “I—thank you,” he whispered.</p>
<p>            “And when you’re ready to tell me all about you, I’ll be here,” she completed, fluttering her eyes close.</p>
<p>            “It’s…<em>delicate</em>,” he explained himself.</p>
<p>            “It’s okay,” she looked up at him. She reached for his cheek and planted a sweet kiss on it. She released herself from his embrace as the song came to a close. “I need to close the bar. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said with a bright smile on her face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He needed somewhere to crash. Somewhere close. He felt the hurt of his wounds increase, as his uniform grew wetter with his blood. His eyesight was getting blurrier, and he probably shouldn’t be driving his bike.</p>
<p>            Text, he should send a text to let her know. Yes, stop the bike and send the text. He looked over his shoulder, no one was actively following him. He needed to stop and send her a text. He stopped. ‘<em>Meet me in the back</em>’. Now, drive. Only a few more blocks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her phone lighted up next to the cash register. She stopped cleaning the last of the glasses. She had just closed the bar.</p>
<p>            ‘<em>Meet me in the back</em>’, it read. Her bones chilled. Unknown number. She put her phone on her back pocket and grabbed the baseball bat she kept under the bar just in case. She quietly made her way towards the back door, while three hastily and hesitant knocks echoed through the pantry.</p>
<p>            Criminals wouldn’t sound hesitant while knocking the door, would they? No, they would bang the door until it fell off. But that was Gotham, she couldn’t let her guard down. She kept the bat firm in her hand while she opened the door with the other.</p>
<p>            Jason was struggling to keep himself straight before her, his face fighting to not cringe in pain. He looked up at her, and she immediately dropped the bat and ushered him inside, not mentioning that he was wearing a red bat symbol on his chest and that she had never seen his eyes in that shade of blue before.</p>
<p>            “What happened?” she asked, worried.</p>
<p>            “I might have been slightly stabbed,” he said, trying to mask his pain. “This might not be the first time this has happened either.”</p>
<p>            “Okay,” she said while frantically looking for her first aid kit. He laid on the floor, and she prayed she had scrubbed it enough to not give him an infection. “Please hang on,” she pleaded.</p>
<p>            “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, suppressing every ounce of him that made him want to grunt in pain.</p>
<p>            She had found the first aid kit. Now onto the vodka. And a needle. She kept a needle somewhere. She left the pantry and quickly came back with a bottle of pure vodka and a needle in her other hand.</p>
<p>            “What are you going to do with that vodka?” Jason said already knowing the answer.</p>
<p>            She opened the lid and poured it on the needle. She then proceeded to rip of Jason’s armor. As soon as the cut was revealed, she poured the drink onto it. Jason Screamed in pain. “YOU COULD HAVE WARNED” he said in pain.</p>
<p>            She took a swig at the bottle, drinking a considerable part of the drink. “If I did you would have tensed and prevented me from doing.”</p>
<p>            She closed the bottle and opened the first aid kit. Was there a thread in there she could use to close his wound? She should have put it there. She took out bags of gauze and cotton to find the closed package of surgical thread she had once bought in case she hurt herself. Hospitals were a luxury to her, and she couldn’t afford that. Thank God she never needed it. Now, she was sewing closed her… It was too delicate to say what Jason was to her. But he couldn’t get out of her head. In her dreams, when she closed her eyes, he was everywhere.</p>
<p>            She looped the thread into the needle and started to sew. “I’m sorry you’re in pain, but I promise to make it quick. I took a course once of first aid and I was the best student in it.”</p>
<p>            “Are you serious?”</p>
<p>            “About the course? Yes,” she deliberately chose not to say that she almost dropped out of the course because she was constantly fainting. He wouldn’t trust her to do this, and she was well into the sewing and she hadn’t felt lightheaded once. It must have been the adrenaline. Or the large amount of vodka she had just ingested.</p>
<p>            “I’m sorry about this,” Jason said. “I couldn’t go anywhere else,” he hid the fact that he could go to somewhere else, only he didn’t want to hear an earful of Bruce Wayne’s trademarked bullshit, so he chose to go to her bar.</p>
<p>            “It’s okay, Jason, really. But you do have some explaining to do, I’m afraid.”</p>
<p>            He looked at his injury and saw that she was almost finished closing it shut. “I know,” he whispered.</p>
<p>            “Because, I—” she took a deep breath. “I can’t get you out of my head, Jason. You are everywhere, and I can’t help but wonder if you…” she gulped before continuing, “if you ever dream of me the way I dream of you.”</p>
<p>            He looked stunned at her. “There. Finished,” she covered the injury with some gauze and medical tape and closed her first aid kit. She quickly glanced over Jason, “I know that it’s delicate, but I hope that it’s cool that I said all of that,” with that she left the small pantry.</p>
<p>            He had to pull himself together. This was it, wasn’t it? He had done it. HE had gotten attached. And maybe it didn’t feel so bad after all. Jason had this imagery in his head that the moment he had created a bond with her, the world would end in flames and crowbars all over again. It definitely didn’t end in flames or crowbars, but maybe it did end in stab wounds and intense pain caused by vodka in his open flesh.</p>
<p>            He sat up straight. Breathe in. Out now. He owed her more than half-assed ‘I know’s and the possibility of a heart attack in the middle of the night because of enigmatic texts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Before you say anything back,” Jason leaned at the frame of the open pantry door, his right hand over the recently shut wound. “you need to know that maybe this ain’t for the best.”</p>
<p>            She breathed, almost in mockery. “What?”</p>
<p>            “My reputation’s never been worse, so you can’t like me for any fantasy you have created in your head,” he said. Jason walked to her, and grabbed her hands, his still a bit tainted in red. His hands were calloused, but it was perfect. “You must like me for me.”</p>
<p>            Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t utter a word, so she just nodded.</p>
<p>            “We can’t make any promises, baby,” his hands found her cheek and she had never felt a softer touch, “but you can make me a drink. And I’ll tell you everything.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you want some jason songs right up the taylor swift alley, look for 'jason's guilty pleasures playlist' on spotify. i'm biased because the playlist is mine, but it's quite good.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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